Through A Child's Eyes
by shadowcat012
Summary: He...has plans for me. He says there's a war coming and...people like me...we're going to be the soldiers." After Ava's disappearance, Sam can't shake the feeling that more like him are out there. And they all need to be warned. -Based in S2-
1. Prologue

A/N: Welcome, readers, to my first Supernatural fanfiction. I'm excited about writing this story and hope that you like it enough to read. The prologue is short but I'm speedily finishing up the first chapter and writing the second. So, without further a-do, I give you: **Through A Child's Eyes**.

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Then: Twenty-three years ago, Dean and Sam Winchester lost their mother when a demon murdered her in young Sam's nursery. Twenty-two years later, the brothers begin to work together hunting the supernatural and saving lives just as their father, John, taught them. They start to piece together their mother's death and it leads to a yellow-eyed demon that had a streak of visiting other toddlers like Sam, leaving them with special abilities such as telekinesis or having visions. The brothers and their father planned to kill the demon with a colt uniquely made to destroy anything and everything of the supernatural realm. After John made a deal with the yellow-eyed demon, his own life for Dean's, the father told his eldest to watch out for Sam; to save him or kill him. After learning of his father's warning, Sam felt the need to search out others like himself. On his journey he discovered a fellow psychic, Ava, and the knowledge that he and the other children were meant for some kind of army. Shortly after he learns this, Ava disappears; signs show a demon kidnapped her. Dean swears that they will figure something out; that he will protect and save Sam no matter what.

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Now:

Combes, Texas

Wind rustled through bare branches, transporting wisps of dark clouds over the bright full moon. The autumn air grew chilly as a young family of three raced through the packed parking lot to the front entrance of the school building. A pair of yellowed bulbs illuminated a bulletin board which sported the information of an open house night.

Sonia Salazar ran ahead of her parents, eager for them to meet her teachers and be amazed by her accomplished works. Mr. and Mrs. Salazar laughed in amusement at their daughter, keeping up with her, though reprimanding her for running indoors.

The hallways were long, clean, and quiet, signifying that other parents were already seated in classrooms listening attentively to exhausted teachers who managed to sum up energy for extra hours added to their already long days.

Sonia was a young pretty thing at the age of seven. Silky curls fell down her thin back while her dainty colored arms swung happily at her sides. Mrs. Salazar quietly admired her daughter's large exuberant smile as they finally reached the last classroom at the end of the hall just before they reached the cafeteria.

After knocking on the door, Mr. Salazar led his family into the room with an apology for the interruption to the other parents and children.

"It's not a problem, really," The teacher acknowledged with a tired grin, before gesturing to the rest of the room. "Please have a seat. We're just going over the curriculum every student at this grade level is learning."

Finding seats at the back, Mr. Salazar wrapped a sleeved arm around his wife's shoulders as their daughter settled into her mother's lap, quite content. As the rest of the night continued, Sonia soon found it necessary to go to the restroom and shook her head when her mother insisted that she accompany her.

"I can go by myself, I'm not scared." Sonia argued in a whisper so as not to disturb the other parents who were currently busying the teacher with questions.

Smiling again, Mrs. Salazar leaned forward, signaling to her husband not to interfere, she knew what she was doing. "I'm not saying you're scared, baby; I'm the scaredy-cat who doesn't want to go by myself. Come on, let's go."

Hands clasped together, mother and daughter exited the room, leaving Mr. Salazar rather uncomfortable at suddenly being the main focus of other parents.

The restroom was down the hall adjacent to the classroom they had just left, easing the mother's nerves by not being far from others. Something about school buildings, haunted or not, gave a creepy eerie feeling after dark.

Standing at the sink in the girl's restroom, Mrs. Salazar began to arrange the items in her purse while listening to her daughter hum from behind a stall door. Lipstick went into a side pocket, wallet stood up on the side, bills go between the powder and the wallet, and her cell phone lay at the top. As she considered a different arrangement so she could fit her ipod and book as well, Mrs. Salazar noticed a sudden halt in her daughter's humming.

Glancing through the mirror to the stall door at first, Mrs. Salazar soon turned to look for herself.

"Sonia? Are you okay?"

Her heartbeat quickened when no reply was given. She stepped forward and paused when she finally did hear her daughter's voice, though it was hesitant and unsure.

"Mommy, is there someone in the next stall?"

Mrs. Salazar's eyes snapped to the closed door of the largest stall in the corner. She could have sworn that all the doors were open when they entered and all had most definitely been empty.

"No, baby, why do you ask?" She stepped closer still to her daughter's stall, hoping to hear more.

"Someone's…crying…" Her little voice sounded confused, sending shivers up the mother's spine.

"Sonia, why don't you come out?" The woman licked her lips before catching the bottom one under her teeth. Again, her daughter didn't answer straight away. "Sonia?"

Slowly she lifted her palm to rest on the door, only to find it swing back under her touch.

"Sonia, baby, are you ready?" Pushing the door back the rest of the way, Mrs. Salazar's heart could have stopped dead then and there. An empty stall met her wide eyes, causing the woman to look up and down the restroom in panic. "Sonia?"

Immediately she was slamming open the rest of the stall doors, coming up only with empty stalls in return.

"SONIA!"


	2. Chapter One

**A/N:** Normally I wouldn't update so soon and I have to warn you that the next update wont be as quick, it's just that I'm very eager to get this out for you to read. Thank you enid18 and FireChildSlytherin5 for not only reading but also reviewing this story. Your feedback is much appreciated and boosts my enthusiasm to write. And also, thank you SeventeenRoses for adding this story to your alerts list. I hope everyone enjoys this.

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**Through A Child's Eyes**

**Chapter One**

"So the victim: five year old Sonia Salazar disappears in little girls' restroom at an elementary school with the mother standing just outside the stall door."

Sam Winchester rolled his eyes at his older brother's report. "So?"

"What do you mean so? This has supernatural kidnapping all over it." Dean Winchester replied, throwing down the newspaper article on the diner table top for his younger brother to see.

Ignoring the paper, Sam kept his uninterested stare on Dean who leaned away from the intensity and glared. "What?"

"So we're just going to go from one missing person to the next?"

"It's a kid, Sammy. You remember kids."

"Of course I remember! I also remember a psychic named Ava who was kidnapped about a month ago by a demon; possibly the same demon who killed our mother twenty-three years ago, do you remember that?"

Lifting his cup of coffee, Dean avoided Sam's eyes. "Someone woke up grumpy this morning."

"Dean, what are we going to do?" Sam questioned, leaning across the table top to convey the urgency that was already clear in his tone. "If this demon has plans for me and others like me, shouldn't we try finding them and…"

Turning his now guarded gaze on his brother, Dean placed his coffee back on the table. "And what?"

"I don't know; warn them?"

The older Winchester fought the urge to scoff at the naivety of his brother's answer. The last time Sam had gone off in search of other's like himself, it ended with him almost getting killed. So instead of completely dismissing the idea and setting Sam off, Dean simply shrugged.

"Well, until you figure out what you're going to say and how you're going to find these others;" He motioned to the article. "This is our case."

Sighing in defeat, Sam leaned back in the booth before eventually picking up the article to study it for himself.

The town was pretty deep in Texas; even if they could enter the state line by the afternoon, it would take seven hours to reach it at minimum. A long drive. Yeah, that's what he needed while trying not to drive himself crazy with worried thoughts.

After Dean finished eating his breakfast special, the brothers left the diner, entered the impala and head out on the long drive to Combes, Texas.

--

The day passed slowly; the only signs of progression on their journey were the three different cassette tapes which played through. With Dean drumming to Zeppelin, Sam soon began to doze off slouched in the seat with his side window rolled down.

Flashes of Ava had become a regular occurrence while falling asleep; sometimes Gordon, the twisted and confused hunter, would follow after her, accusing Sam of being a demon, a thing that needed to be hunted.

Usually, when it came to being haunted by the man, Sam always saw him clearly as if he were the main focus of the dream. This time, however, Gordon appeared in fragments just as Ava had. A flash of his wide conflicted eyes, then a zoomed focus of a sniper rifle held aimed at Sam, followed by muffled words of monotone sympathies for having to kill a fellow hunter. With the sound of a gunshot, the scene dissolved to where a young man, maybe a few years older than himself, lay on the floor bleeding out before shriveling up into a young pale girl with long sandy brown hair and big brown eyes that turned to him knowingly.

Later he would have sworn that the little girl had smirked at him, conveying without words that he was entering into a game where she ruled all.

--

They weren't able to see the town in daylight until the next day. It was admittedly small, a dot inside a city that was smaller than most metropolitan areas surrounding it. After showering, eating, and finding the address of the victim's parents, both brothers dressed in their black suits and began the job.

The Salazar home was hidden behind a multitude of growing trees and blossoming plants. A brick path led through the greenery to a set of wooden steps and the front door.

After knocking on the screen door, Sam turned to his brother who had nudged his arm, though Dean's eyes were focused on the cluttered front lawn.

"Wife must keep busy." He noted before turning back to Sam who shrugged in turn.

--

"I don't understand," Mrs. Salazar spoke while handing each man a glass of water. She sat across from them in a pale green recliner, her shaking hands clasped firmly in her lap. For a seemingly young mother, Dean had expected more despair, maybe used tissues about the place, pictures of the little girl everywhere, curtains drawn…alcohol somewhere…

The house was uncomfortably kept, the windows were open, curtains pulled back, and what was stranger was not a single picture adorned the place. The mother herself had her auburn hair combed back into a neat pony tail and her clothes seemed oddly pressed for a t-shirt and jeans. The only sign of her suffering it seemed were her tear-red eyes and trembling fingers.

"You're the second set of FBI agents to come asking these sorts of questions, not including the number of visits I've had from the town and state police, and don't even get me started with the number of reporters!" Dropping her chin to her chest, the woman took a deep calming breath, allowing for the brothers to share a glance before she lifted her face to them once again. "What else do you need to find her? I've given you everything! Why aren't you out there _looking_?"

Dean cleared his throat and leaned back while Sam leaned forward.

"We understand that this is difficult, but every bit of information is crucial."

Instantly, the woman leaned forward, intensely locking her dark eyes on Sam's. "Look; my daughter was there one moment, then gone the next. There was no one else in the restroom, I made sure of it. Now you tell me, how is any of that possible? Where is my _daughter_?"

--

"Well that was almost painful," Dean commented as he and Sam exited the house.

"She didn't smell any sulfur and there were no drops in temperature at the time of the abduction." Sam checked off on his fingers.

"So no demons, no ghosts…" Dean trailed off as they approached the Impala. After unlocking both doors, he leaned his arms over the top of the vehicle to consult with Sam. "Shape shifter? Living in the air vents picking up a snack every now and then?"

Sam's eyebrows lowered heavily over his eyes as he thought. "Maybe, but there would have been more disappearances. We'll have to check the school out."

The older Winchester grimaced before pulling away and lowering himself into the driver's seat. "An elementary school…don't think we've done that before."

"Sure we have," Sam countered as he too entered the Impala and closed the door while Dean started up the engine.

The older Winchester stared through the windshield, trying to place the memory of working a job in an elementary school. A smile soon crossed his lips as it came to him.

"That's right. Maybe we should just ask them if you can use the little girl's room like Dad had you do back then." Dean looked expectantly at Sam who practically pouted in turn.

"Funny," Was his only reply as he turned his attention out the passenger window.

--

The afternoon sun shone through the thick window glass that lined each floor on the west side of the public library. At a table just next to the genealogy section on the second floor, a pair of light brown eyes closed briefly in sudden pain. Two slender, tanned hands lifted to massage a set of throbbing temples that simply refused to settle down.

Once the pain ceased, a young woman shut the laptop before her then slid it into her shoulder bag while standing up. She passed through several aisles of over stacked files before finding a young man immersed in one file in particular.

Confidently walking up to him, she easily caught a hold of his blue gaze as he glanced up from the file expectantly. Large pale hands flipped the manila folder shut as the young man stood to his full height, towering over the woman slightly.

"Someone else is here." She informed.


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: Thank you enid18 for your review!

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Through A Child's Eyes

**Chapter Two**

The elementary school consisted of several single story buildings grouped together on an acre lot behind a few neighborhoods. Behind the school stretched out another acre of green land where a playground, jungle gym, and a patch of black top resided. With backyards exposed to the front of the school building and its parking lot, it would be difficult to drive up on a non-work day and sneak in without being spotted by someone. It was luck they so happened to pull up to the school on a Friday afternoon.

As Sam and Dean walked up the cemented sidewalk to the front office, both noted the shrouded cemetery only two vacant lots over to the left of the school.

"Think it'll be that simple?" Dean questioned, pulling the entrance door open and flashing a small glance at the cemetery.

"Let's find out." Sam replied, grabbing hold of the door himself while following his brother inside the air conditioned building.

* * *

The principle of the elementary was an elder woman in her early fifties who stood at an even five feet. Her curly gray hair was cut short in a librarian fashion and her silver blue eyes were comically magnified by a pair of silver reading glasses perched on her long, narrow nose.

When both Sam and Dean entered her spacious corner office, the atmosphere that struck them was both warm and intimidating. As they sat in cushion chairs placed before the principle's red wood desk, Dean's attention wondered around the office, taking in the rusty filing cabinets, over flowing book shelves, colorful wall papers, and ladybug wall clock.

Shuffling a stack of yellow papers into a brown filing folder, the principle, Mrs. Trevino, took her time in forming a response to the brothers before her.

"Exactly," She began, her voice rough with age, "What do you expect me to do for you?" Setting the folder aside, her wrinkled, translucent hands clasped together on the desk as her upper body leaned forward slightly to hear their demands.

Glancing at the name plate at the front of the desk very briefly, Sam sat straight forward once he realized that her question had been directed towards him.

"Well, my partner and I need to know if there have been any other disappearances like this throughout the school's history," Sam began to explain when Mrs. Trevino swiftly lifted a hand and scooted up further in her seat.

"I will stop you right there, Agent." She declared in a reprimanding tone. Dropping her hand, her silver blue gaze regarded Sam as if he were a five year old boy about to talk himself into trouble. "No disappearance has ever happened before now. In my forty-five years of teaching at this school, things have been as peaceful as any place can be when you have so many youngsters from the ages of four to ten gathered in one place." She then motioned her hand in direction for Sam to continue the list of demands.

Sharing an unsure glance with his brother, Sam cleared his throat while turning back to the principle. He took a moment to gather a new set of appropriate words. "What…kinds of trouble have you experienced while here?" He couldn't help but ask.

Dean's head snapped to his brother, clearly fighting the urge to outright gawk at him. Sam's question had been downright vague; the older Winchester wouldn't have been surprised if the woman threw a fit.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," She answered plainly though her eyes now regarded him suspiciously.

Sensing his mistake, Sam's shoulders stiffened as he flashed a nervous smile.

"What we would _like_," Dean spoke, stressing his words so Sam would catch the hint that he was cutting in to save his ass, "Is to investigate the scene of disappearance for ourselves."

Mrs. Trevino settled her cool gaze on Dean, causing his confidence to falter slightly.

"A set of FBI agents has already investigated the scene." She stated evenly, her eyes practically dissecting Dean.

"That's right. We're here to follow-up." Sam explained warmly. Dean nodded his approval of the statement though still found it difficult to sit comfortably with the woman's open staring.

Coming to a decision, Mrs. Trevino slowly leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands together on her lap. "Is that all you wish to do?"

"Yes." Both men answered quickly in unison.

"Very well," Her voice intoned warning. "I will ask you to refrain speaking with the little ones. Parents throw fits nowadays and law suits are the last thing we need. One of the secretaries outside will escort you to the bathroom."

Both Winchesters nodded before rising from their seats to head for the door.

"A word of advice, Agents," The woman spoke, catching them just before they opened the door. Gently resting an elbow on the desk, Mrs. Trevino removed her glasses to stare at them even more intensely. "Don't refer to each other as your partner. While it works for others, it simply sounds homosexual between the two of you. You should understand my meaning."

Both stared at her in shocked silence until eventually Dean's jaw slowly dropped in mute protest.

Mrs. Trevino simply replaced her glasses on the bridge of her nose and opened a new file to examine so as to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

* * *

"Don't ever call me your partner ever again." Dean said vehemently once he and Sam were alone in the girls' washroom.

After hearing such a comment from an old lady (of all people!), Dean had become hyper aware of the stares other staff members were giving them as they walked by.

Pulling out an EMF meter from inside his jacket, he continued to mutter about ridiculous people while his brother rolled his eyes and pulled the silver latch on the door so no one else could walk in.

"Dean, would you drop it? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a thing against gays." Sam sighed, pulling out his own EMF meter and walking further into the room. Stopping by the line of sinks, he ran the meter over the ceramic structure as well as the mirrors that hung over each one.

"I do not!" Dean snapped a bit too hotly.

Sam's eyebrows lifted as he turned to his brother whose eyes seemed to be searching for some sort of explanation to the outburst. Settling on one, Dean's shoulders relaxed as he shrugged.

"The implication that I would go for someone like you is just insulting."

"You're crossing the line to weird. Stop talking." Was all Sam said as he turned back to the line of sinks.

After five minutes passed in silence, Dean questioned which stall it was the little girl disappeared from.

"Second to the last," Sam replied, turning back to his brother who currently stood in said stall. Stepping up to the small doorway, Sam watched as Dean's EMF meter began to whine in warning.

"It came through the wall?" Sam questioned aloud.

"Hold on," Dean lifted the reader along the wall up towards the ceiling where the whining turned into a wild alarm. Tucking the device back into the interior of his jacket, Dean stepped one polished shoe atop the toilet seat and hefted himself up. Resting his palm on one of the square ceiling tiles, he gave a push and was able to lift the piece from the rest. Pulling out a small silver flashlight, Dean flipped the switch and shined the bright beam into the dark interior.

"There's a whole other level up here. How much you want to bet that this covers the entire building?" He leaned his head back to stare down at his brother.

"We'll have to come back tonight to find out."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the confines of a shabby motel room doing research online. Running a hand over his face, Sam heavily leaned back in his seat; his mind exhausted from the many dead ends he'd encountered in the last four hours.

The motel room door opened with a sigh as Dean entered with a white plastic bag in one hand and a candy bar caught between his teeth. Removing the key from the lock, he used his free hand to grab the candy while his mouth took a large bite.

"Did you find anything?" He questioned while tossing the motel key onto the night stand and moving to stand by the table opposite his brother.

"Very little," Sam answered his voice sounding as beat as he felt. He eyed the chocolate candy bar Dean continued to eat. "Did you get me anything?"

Wordlessly, Dean tossed him the plastic bag which Sam eagerly caught and reached into.

"So what did you find?"

Biting into his own chocolate bar, Sam turned the laptop screen towards Dean who leaned over the table top to have a look.

"Mrs. Ella Trevino wasn't lying when she said things were peaceful. Nothing major has ever happened at the school, save for a few academic recognitions. However, on the school website, there's a post that claims the little girl's restroom is haunted."

"By what?"

"By a little girl, apparently. I mean, look at this;" Sam leaned forward and pointed to a small post back lighted by a red bulletin. "Teachers have reported that fifty years ago a child was beaten to death by another student in the old girl's bathroom. And they say that if you stay alone in there you can hear cries coming from the last stall."

"Crying," Dean repeated, his forehead creasing as he thought. "The mother said that the girl had asked if anyone was in the next stall and that she heard someone crying."

"The daughter heard, the mother didn't," Sam specified.

"But enough of it fits. What else have you got?"

Sighing, Sam pulled the laptop back so that he could pull up the many other windows he'd minimized, displaying all the dead ends. "That's it. I've looked back fifty years, even went back seventy-five just to be sure. There are no reports of a child's death at school in the public or police records. All leads lead to a dead end."

"What about obits?"

Pulling up a stack of papers from the floor beside him, Sam dropped them in front of Dean whose eyes widened at the amount.

"Obituaries of children between the ages four and twelve who've died in the last seventy-five years," Sam explained as his brother picked a few from the top and leafed through. "There are drownings, car accidents, gunshot wounds, stab wounds, illnesses, diseases, around the house accidents…I could keep going, Dean. The point is none of these happened inside the school."

Warily, Dean placed the papers back atop the stack. "I leave you for an hour at the most and you come up with this much…"

"You could say it's like my job." Sam replied dryly. "What took you so long in getting food anyway?"

"I stopped by the local bar. Five o'clock crowd was in so it was a full house. Boy was there things to see." He added with a giddy grin.

"Anything to help with the job?" Sam questioned without much expectance as he watched Dean pull out a wrapped burrito from his jacket pocket.

Before Dean could answer there was a quick rap at the door. Exchanging glances, the brothers silently questioned each other if they were expecting anyone. In response, Sam reached for a pistol while Dean dropped the burrito onto the bed and side stepped to the door. One hand hovered over the handle of the throwing knife tucked in the back of his jeans, while his other cautiously opened the door.

Both brothers peered around the door and froze in confusion at the sight of a young man standing stock still and silent. He stood at maybe six-one at best; with blond hair cropped short around his chiseled head and stormy blue eyes that regarded the Winchesters with a fierce intensity.

Dean chose to ignore the staring (he seemed to be getting a lot that day), and instead firmly wrapped his hand around the handle of the knife. "Can we help you?"

"Are you Dean and Sam Winchester?" The man questioned abruptly.

"Who's asking?" Dean returned, still eying the man.

The stranger's jaw tightened as if he were suddenly having an inner conflict. "Does that '67 Chevy Impala belong to you and are you currently on a hunt?"

At the mention of his beloved, Dean jumped forward to gaze out into the parking lot where his black Impala remained parked and intact. As one brother visibly relaxed, the other stepped out from behind the door and spoke up.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

Again the man's jaw tightened as he momentarily averted his gaze and stiffly nodded his head. "The name's Jeremy Manning and if you are the Winchesters, I'm going to need a few minutes of your time."

Sizing the man up once more, neither could tell how built the guy was; the dark clothing and rather large dark green jacket hid how much was body and how much was bulky fabric.

Pushing back the door, Dean motioned for the man to enter. Though his easy movements froze when he noticed another person had been standing behind the man. As Jeremy Manning stepped forward, he came face to chest with Sam who was more than a little reluctant to let him in.

"Who are you?" Dean's voice sounded from outside, causing Sam's eyes to leave the man and gaze over his shoulder.

"That's my sister, Christine." Jeremy answered casually as if it were an everyday occurrence to forget her introduction.

Dean turned back to the girl who sighed quietly while slipping a thumb into a belt loop on her blue jeans. Mutely, Dean lifted his hand in gesture for her to enter the room next.

She murmured a quick thanks as she passed him and stepped into the room.

Sam's eyes connected with Dean's, mentally asking why he let them in. Dean lifted his shoulders in turn before slipping back into the room and closing the door behind him.


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: I just want to say thank you to enid18 for your support and I hope the chapter is worth the wait!

* * *

**Through A Child's Eyes**

**Chapter Three**

Growing up, Jeremy Manning had never been one for beating around the bush. He either spoke his mind or kept his thoughts to himself. In his high school days, girls had been attracted to his silence, believing they could break through his exterior and link him to their world. His indifference to their naivety and childish ploys usually ended whatever short relationships he did have.

After sizing up the two hunters, Sam and Dean, Jeremy came to the quick conclusion that formalities would be wasted on the two anyway. "We're all on the same hunt," He spoke matter-of-factly.

Stepping up beside Sam, Dean crossed his arms and regarded the guy with suspicious eyes. "Come again?"

"The missing girl, Sonia Salazar," He clarified patiently. "It's rare, but hunters jumping into the same case, happens."

"You're hunters?" Sam spoke incredulously, looking between the two. "Both of you?"

Christine's eyes narrowed when she saw Sam's gaze linger on her at the last question.

"Yes," Jeremy answered before his sister could reply. His blue eyes shined in determination as he returned his attention to Dean. "Look, this many hunters on a case is bound to bring unwanted attention. Seeing as we were here first, I'm going to have to ask you two to back off."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there, Sparky." Dean held up a hand to halt Jeremy's words. After slowly dropping his hand he looked between the two hunters steadily. "How did you even know we were here? And why should _we_ trust _you_ with this case?"

As if expecting the questions, Jeremy was quick to answer. "It's not difficult to follow a pair of FBI agents in this town. Especially, when they were at the school the day we were going to gank the ghost and rescue the girl."

"You know where the girl is?" Sam questioned, his interest peaked.

"Jer," Christine murmured, her voice laced in warning. Her eyes were regarding the brothers defensively, as if she suddenly became wary of them. Her back had even stiffened to the point it was noticeable how quickly she kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other as if getting ready to bolt for the door.

Jeremy didn't have to turn to know his sister was nervous; instead he studied the Winchesters' reactions. Both seemed on the verge of speaking, though the shorter one was able to form words first.

"Look, we're all for killing the ghost and saving the girl; but if you two are here telling us to back off when you could be _rescuing_ the kid; then I _really_ don't trust you. So where is she?"

A thick silence filled the room as the brothers waited for a reply and Jeremy contemplated his options. Sam glanced at the sister to see if maybe she would say something, though was surprised to find her eyes studying him. Her face expressed frustrated bewilderment until she noticed he caught her staring and quickly averted her eyes to the wall behind the beds.

"We've given you a fair warning." Jeremy broke through the silence decisively. "You can stay if you want but we've got this one covered." His cool blue eyes clashed with Dean's smoldering green before Jeremy gave a curt nod and stepped forward to leave. "Come on, Chris," He called lowly over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, the girl followed, her head dipped low, ignoring the Winchesters as she passed them.

Once the door to the motel room shut, Dean turned to Sam, uncrossed his arms and let his hands fall to his sides. "That went well." He remarked sarcastically.

Letting out a short breath, Sam faced his brother though kept his eyes averted. "Yeah," He agreed distractedly, placing his hands on the waist of his jeans.

Recognizing his brother's tone, Dean's eyes slid to a close as he dreaded having to ask. "What?"

His eyes clouding over in thought, Sam continued to avoid looking at his brother. "Something wasn't right."

"That'd be because they tried to bump us off a hunt. It's not much of a hunt, really, seeing as we don't have much information to go on…"

"No, Dean, something wasn't right with _her_."

"Yeah, tell me what wasn't wrong." Stepping over to the bed, Dean picked up the wrapped burrito he'd previously dropped and proceeded to take a large bite.

Deciding his brother didn't have the patience to understand, Sam silently sat back at the table, his shoulders tense and his face brooding.

Just glancing at his brother, Dean had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes, he would swear Sam was too damn sensitive for his own good.

"We do have one lead," He spoke optimistically, leisurely making his way over to the table.

"What's that?" Sam questioned dully, his eyes centered on the pile of papers before him.

Resolving to ignore his brother ignoring him, Dean sat across the table from Sam and made a show of getting comfortable, his burrito now held between both hands. "The second level of the school building."

"That's not a lead."

"Well it's something we should check out."

Finally raising his eyes to his brother, Sam could only stare dryly, not even bothering to form a response.

"For curiosity's sake, Sammy, come on."

"Dean, they want us to back off."

"Since when do I care for a stranger's request?"

"Dean…"

"Humor me."

Sam averted his gaze then. Dean's eyes had glistened in that cocky way which usually meant he'd already won an argument and knew it. Sam's objection was merely a formality that would eventually cave in. Grinding his teeth, the younger Winchester decided he would keep quiet longer rather than simply giving in. Chalk it up to younger sibling stubbornness.

* * *

Once the sun had set under the horizon, children were called back inside their homes and security lights turned on above every lawn. Under the cover of darkness, two figures ran through shadows and across a wide field before approaching a lone dark school building.

After quickly pick-locking the side door, both figures silently slipped into the building and made their way through the dark carpeted passageway. Cleaning staff had departed only an hour earlier, leaving behind the poignant smell of carpet cleaners and bleach. One figure tossed the other a flash light before pulling an EMF reader from their jacket pocket. The silence between them stretched and grew somewhat strained.

The car ride over, Sam had diligently refrained from telling Dean how pointless he saw the entire "hunt" to be. Despite what his brother thought, they had no actual leads…just one missing little girl…

His blood ran hotly as a knot began to throb inside his head, demanding he yell out all his frustration right then and there.

"Stop it." Dean's voice erupted suddenly from the darkness.

Just barely containing his temper, Sam's nose twitched. "Stop what?"

"Stop pulling that face I know you're making."

Grinding his teeth together, the younger Winchester held his breath and pretended to ignore his brother.

The beam of light next to him fell to the floor as Dean dropped his arm to his side and stopped to face Sam. "What is it?"

Sharply releasing his breath, Sam stopped walking as well. "What's what?"

"Bothering you, Sam! What's bothering you?" Dean nearly shouted, his own patience wearing thin.

"This isn't a job, Dean!" Sam quickly retaliated, though he did so in a heated whisper. "This is just you trying to get my mind off of the fact that we've stopped looking for Ava! Which; by the way; I'm not going to forget."

"I'm not asking you to forget, man, I'm telling you to get your head in the game!" Dean's movements were jerky and swift as he motioned to his own temple for emphasis. "You walking around half pissed all the time clouds your judgment and leaves my back unprotected! As your older brother, I'm just going to tell you _once_ to get over it and focus on the job." He then moved as if to take up the walk again though was forced to stop when Sam began to speak slowly, as if about to argue with a child.

"Dean, we've got _nothing_. We don't even know the kid is here."

"You can stand there and twiddle with your thumbs thinking about what we do and don't know. I'm going to go search for a little girl and do in whatever the hell has taken her." Dean ended in finality before quickly continuing down the hall in a brisk pace.

Standing solitary for a moment, Sam could only watch as his brother made his way to the entrance of the girls' restroom. His gut tightened and his jaw set as he realized his brother had turned the argument around so the _he_ looked like the insensitive asshole. His face twitched as once again he held in his frustration.

The sound of his brother effortlessly pushing the restroom door open caught Sam's attention and immediately sparked suspicion. "Dean," Sam called urgently. When his brother turned to him, his face expressed that he'd come to the same conclusion.

Sam stepped forward, and then everything happened at once.

The ceiling just over his head fell through. The tile and debris as well as two bodies fell into Sam's arms, knocking him to the ground.

"Sam!" Dean's voice hollered in alarm as he ran the length of the hall to his fallen brother. Smog filled the once clean hall and the disturbed dust floated in the air, making it difficult for Dean to see him at first.

"I'm okay," The younger Winchester wheezed, catching the breath that had abruptly been knocked from his lungs. The lithe body in his arms quickly rolled away and took the second person from him as well. Rolling over, Sam picked himself up and directed his flashlight at the sudden company.

His light beam caught the face of a young girl with wide brown eyes and dirty, soft brown cheeks. As soon as the light beam hit her face, she turned away and buried herself deeper within the arms of the woman she clung to.

Turning his attention to said woman, Sam was quick to recognize the curved face and guarded brown eyes of Christine Manning.

Putting the scenario together, Sam could only breathe three words in greeting.

"You found her."


	5. Chapter Four

A/N: Thank you samgirl19 for your review and thank you to everyone else who has subscribed to and favorited this story! I hope this is worth the wait.

**

* * *

****Through A Child's Eyes**

**Chapter Four**

A week ago, Sonia Salazar had been kidnapped. Her life expectancy had been down to a candle's wick when Christine and Jeremy entered the forgotten second level. Knowing the second level covered the entire building hadn't made the search for her any easier. In fact, it had made it nerve wrecking.

What if they didn't find her? What if the last day of her survival had been wasted with their searching in the wrong place? These thoughts had plagued Christine's mind to the point she began to doubt herself and seriously consider telling her brother they should look elsewhere.

The second level was shrouded in pitch black darkness that felt like a constant barrier enclosing around the lonely light beam from the flash light in her hand. The air was musty, old, and unused, leaving a rather foul scent lingering in her nostrils. Carefully stepping across the moldy tile, Christine focused on keeping her breath slow and even.

Then, she'd heard the faintest sound…as if someone were humming a sweet tune.

Based on the moving echoes, the source belonged to their supernatural entity.

Lifting her flashlight to focus the beam on the air before her, Christine released a breath and clearly saw the warm moisture briefly hang in the sudden cold atmosphere.

Her attention quickly snapped to a pale figure caught in the beam of light, standing four feet away from her. The figure was a little girl dressed in a pale blue dress. A maroon ribbon fastened around the waist of the dress like a belt. Brown loafers adorned her feet with the white collars of socks lining two thin ankles.

What made Christine tense was the girl's face.

Dark, morose eyes spoke volumes of years of disappointment and anger which contrasted greatly with her ghostly, pale, childish cheeks and small pale pink lips.

Going back through the information she'd gathered; the young hunter decided to go with one approach.

"You must be Tabatha."

The girl let her silence be the answer as she steadily watched the intruder of her territory.

Deciding to play nonchalant, Christine lifted her eyebrows and kept up the conversation herself. "Would you like to tell me where Sonia is?"

The girl lifted her chin smugly, her eyes shining dangerously. "You can't have her. She's mine." An innocent smile graced her haunted features then.

"Jeremy," Christine called out without taking her eyes from the ghost.

The smile slipped from the child's face, making Christine regret saying anything at all. An iron crow bar was tucked into the belt loop at the back of her jeans, though she was having a difficult time pinpointing the right moment to strike.

She could sense her brother's confusion as he moved stealthy through the darkness in search of her. She could also sense he wasn't moving fast enough.

The girl picked up her humming again, her small frame swayed to and fro with the tune. She casually stepped closer to the hunter, causing said hunter to inch backwards.

"Damn it, Jeremy," Christine couldn't help but utter as adrenaline scorched like lightning through her veins.

Then, during a short pause in the tune, Christine heard a tiny sniffle not far off.

The realization must have crossed her face, for the ghost stopped humming all together and simply stared with her dark haunted orbs.

"You want to take her away. I won't let you."

Jeremy emerged from the darkness beside the girl, crowbar in hand, before deftly swinging it through the small figure, causing it to disappear.

Both siblings locked gazes for a moment before Jeremy adjusted his grip on the iron bar and warily surveyed the area, ready for the ghost to reappear.

Quickly moving forward, Christine slipped past her brother in search of the area she'd heard the small sniffle come from.

"Did you find the body yet?" Jeremy questioned, his eyes sweeping the darkness.

"No," Christine huffed in irritation when she came up against a solid pillar that helped to support the building's structure.

'_We need to find it.'_

"I know." The young woman breathed hurriedly, before resting her hand on the pillar and following it to the floor below her feet. Crouching down, Christine studied the moldy tiles and noticed a number of frenzied scratch marks around one in particular.

Placing her palm over the tile, Christine's eyes shut momentarily as a buzz flowed through her fingertips straight to her head where one hazy word formed faintly.

'_Mommy…'_

Eyes snapping open, Christine pulled the crowbar from the loop of her jeans and called out to her brother in alarm. She began to work quickly on the decaying tile and paused only when the sound of hissing steam answered her instead.

Looking up, she found a main pipe line trembling with barely contained pressure. Immediately whipping her chin over her shoulder, she was in time to see Jeremy knocked from his feet and into the nearest wall by an invisible force.

The girl appeared in the place he'd been standing with her back to the wall he crashed through. Her attention was focused on Christine. Caught with her crowbar jammed between the tile, Christine could only stare back like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Sonia, listen to me. I'm here to help, just hold on a little longer." She spoke urgently without removing her eyes from the ghost. Gripping her crowbar tighter Christine slowly moved to stand.

"You can't have her," The young spirit bristled, causing a multitude of bolts to spring free from the pipe overhead.

"You have to let her go, Tabatha;" Christine articulated firmly, her voice disguising the slight tremble going through her hands and fingers.

Tears sprang to the young girl's eyes and her pale face scrunched into a spiteful sneer. "I do not! She's mine! No one can have her but _me_!" Her face froze then, as if a realization struck her before she suddenly disappeared.

Unsure of what had just happened; Christine moved her flashlight around the surrounding space before hearing a ruckus from the direction her brother had been thrown.

"Jeremy?"

"I've got it, get the girl!"

Quickly, as if snapping from a dream, Christine crouched beside the floor board once more; this time she slammed the iron bar into the tile without hesitance.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," she repeated over and over under her breath. Hearing more crashes from the darkness to her left only caused her to struggle with the wood more impatiently.

Finally, the tile came free and, dropping the crow bar to the side, Christine reached for her flashlight and pointed it down into the revealed hole. There, lying in a fetal position with dirt and sweat covering her body, was little Sonia Salazar. Her body lay deathly limp to the point Christine briefly wondered if they were too late after all.

The tiniest movement of Sonia's head allowed for two small brown eyes to peer drowsily at the light beam and soon after, a pair of parched lips parted in a breathless whimper.

Christine reached into the hole and quickly pulled the weak girl into her arms. "It's okay, sweetie, I'm here to help you; just hold on a little longer."

Sonia feebly latched onto the hunter's jacket and rested her head against her shoulder.

Standing up, Christine hesitated when her eyes caught a dark form still in the shallow hole; though it remained unmoving. Before she could inspect it further, the child spirit, Tabatha, appeared between Christine and the hole, causing the hunter to take several steps back in surprise.

'_Someone else is here.'_ An estranged voice resounded in Christine's head, distracting her from the water pipe above breaking loose from its hinges to ram into the shoulder that wasn't supporting Sonia and knocking both girls down.

The hunter tightened her embrace around the child as she felt the dank floor crumble under their weight, admitting them to crash through to the first floor. The impact was faster than Christine expected. It was rather uneven as well.

It wasn't until they'd stopped falling and her head stopped reeling that Christine registered someone yelling and a large hand on her back.

She had actually landed on someone?

Realizing the situation was not right at all, she was quick to roll away and pull Sonia's small form along with her. Pain ignited in her shoulder like fire at the movement, causing her to stumble against the wall in shock. She ordered herself to take deep sharp breathes, though stopped altogether when she saw a light beam focused upon them.

Sonia buried her face in the side of Christine's stomach, causing the hunter to awkwardly wrap her arm around her in an attempt of comfort. The light beam then lifted to shine in her eyes, obscuring any chance she had in identifying who they'd fallen on.

"You found her."

The words reached her ears and suddenly she knew. Though, the words barely held meaning as others invaded her thoughts.

'_Found who? The kid? Did they finish the job?'_ Then the line of thought flashed forward in a jumble as the mind behind it worked at full speed.

* * *

"Hey," Sam called out to the girl when she didn't respond. Lowering the beam from her face, he stepped forward cautiously after seeing her eyes shut and her head turn away. "Are you guys okay?"

Before she could answer, Dean's voice broke in. "Sam, get them out of here."

Turning to his brother, Sam briefly saw Dean staring up at the hole the girls had fallen through before pulling a sawed-off shot gun from the duffel he carried, turning, and running back down the hall.

"Come on," He ordered, ignoring the dread that suddenly filled his stomach. Wrapping an arm across Christine's back, Sam pulled her away from the wall and directed them towards the exit.

Dean effortlessly hefted himself up into the ominous second level through the loose ceiling tile the Manning siblings had previously moved. Clutching readily onto his shotgun, Dean moved stealthily through the darkness, his ears picking up on crumbling plaster and ragged breathing. It didn't take long for him to navigate and come upon the fallen hunter.

A discarded flashlight illuminated Dean's arrival, causing Jeremy's somewhat glazed eyes to snap towards him.

"Oh great," The man grunted as he slowly began to sit up. "It's you."

"Hold the applause, it's not like I'm here to save your ass." Dean returned unamused.

"My ass doesn't _need_ saving." Jeremy bit out before spitting blood from his mouth and wiping the excess with the sleeve of his jacket.

Lifting his eyes from the man, Dean let out disbelievingly. "Whatever you say. So where's this demon?" He looked around the room expectantly.

After the man pushed himself to his feet, Dean could clearly see the annoyance etched on his face. "It's not a demon."

"Oh really?"

Glaring at the feigned surprise in the Winchester's voice, Jeremy began to hobble over to the discarded flashlight. "It's a vengeful spirit of a young girl."

Any smart remark Dean was about to unleash was lost as said spirit appeared before him, her dark eyes boring into him. Lifting his sawed off shotgun, Dean took a quick aim though stopped sort when the spirit disappeared.

"Keep her busy," Jeremy grunted as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a silver flask, which, Dean guessed, contained salt to burn the corpse.

"Don't forget to gas it up first." Dean remarked while letting his duffel slide down his arm then giving a short whistle.

"I'm not an idiot." Jeremy snapped, while turning back in response to the whistle.

Without a word, Dean tossed him the duffel bag, causing him to stumble at the unexpected weight and force with which it was thrown.

Feeling the hairs at the back of his neck rise, Dean's grip on his shotgun tightened as he turned and blew a round of rock salt into the vengeful spirit, causing it to vanish once more. Keeping aware of where the other hunter was, Dean took up the position of guard.

Kneeling beside the hole his sister had pulled Sonia from, Jeremy directed his flashlight to the dark lump inside. A decayed corpse lay curled in a corner with barely discernable clothing still clinging to its form.

Ignoring the multiple pangs in his body, Jeremy pulled a gas-filled jug from the duffel bag, popped the lid, and proceeded to soak the lump. He then flipped open the flask and salted the remains. More rounds were fired behind him before he heard a distinctive grunt and the clatter of a shotgun falling. Quickly, he pulled a lighter from his pocket, brushed his thumb along the igniter and tossed the flame into the hole.

The flame began to burn slowly, though, soon the high pressure running through the pipes overhead began to subside until eventually everything was in a dead silence. Mutely, Jeremy stood and turned, his eyes immediately searching out the other hunter.

Lying flat on his back, Dean took in a relieved breath before dropping his head back to the floor.

"She was a strong one." He commented conversationally before rolling over to stand. After the sudden beat down from the young spirit, his muscles itched in dull pain that he easily concealed. Once he was back on his feet, he retrieved his shotgun then casually locked gazes with Jeremy. "I believe you now owe me a beer."

Then, the floor beneath them collapsed.


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N:** I'm so, so, so very sorry for taking so long to update. Thank you _samgirl19 _and _homeric_ for your reviews. I really do appreciate the support!

* * *

**Through A Child's Eyes**

**Chapter Five**

They watched from a distance as the first set of flashing lights approached the darkened school building. Bright beams were cast across the side entrance, illuminating both Christine and Sonia who had been sitting on the cement steps huddled together.

An aged civic sped down the road and slid to a halt just behind the flashing lights and cops who proceeded to exit their vehicles. A woman dressed in warm up pants, sneakers, and a sweater, raced out of the civic and sprinted to the side steps.

Seeing the face of her mother sparked life in the young girl and soon both mother and daughter were reunited in a tight embrace of tears and comforting words.

Sam tore his eyes from the scene when Jeremy silently approached them through the brush. Both his heavy jacket and loose blue jeans were coated in white dust from the fall. Also, if Sam squinted, he could detect the multiple tangles of spider webs within the short strands of his dark golden hair. Really, he was just as dirty as Dean, though the young Winchester thought better of actually mentioning it.

"Is it really okay to leave her out there?" Sam inquired instead, referring to the hunter who was currently dealing with a bombardment of questions from the authorities.

Jeremy glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention to Sam and shrugging. "She'll be all right."

Sam nodded his head slightly. He figured he wouldn't get much more of an answer and decided to let it drop.

Dean moved behind him, dusting the webs from his hair before closing the trunk to the Impala. Jeremy's eyes lingered on the vehicle before moving up to look at the older Winchester who fixed him with a calculating stare.

"So, are you going to tell us just how you knew where to find the girl or are we going to have to pull the information from you?"

"There's nothing to tell." Jeremy evaded easily. "We did our research, discovered this year was the fiftieth anniversary of the spirit's death and came to the rescue."

"But we researched the hell out of the history of that school; there were no violent deaths." Sam interjected heatedly.

"You've been here a day. We've been here five." Jeremy then stared at Sam as if that were enough to explain everything.

The silence grew tense with Sam's unspoken frustration, but it was quickly overshadowed when Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Good enough for me. Come on Sam, let's get out of here."

Mutely Sam turned to his brother, exasperation written clearly all over his face. Dean returned the look with one that ordered: _don't start_.

Rolling his eyes, Sam rounded the car, opened the passenger door, slid in, and slammed it shut. Dean began to make his way to the driver's door but stopped when Jeremy spoke up.

"The beer I owe you?"

Smirking back at the hunter, Dean replied. "Oh, I didn't forget. Meet us at the local bar in an hour."

* * *

When Christine rejoined her brother in the brush by the cemetery, her strides were long yet slow, her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes appeared to have shrunk in exhaustion. Jeremy briefly wondered if he looked half as bad. Pushing away from his Camino as she approached, he greeted her with a small smile.

"Went down all right?" He questioned, opening the driver's door as she opened the passenger's.

"Small towns are harder to convince than large cities." She replied tiredly.

As soon as her brother turned the ignition, Christine allowed herself to grip her left shoulder and lightly massage the beaten tender muscle. Remembering the beating her brother went through, she turned in her seat and looked him over critically.

Completely covered in dust, Jeremy looked as if he were trying to appear as a ghost for Halloween. There was a bold slash on his bottom lip but that was all that seemed to stand out from what she could tell.

"How are you doing? That spirit took a mean beating to you."

Shrugging off the concern, Jeremy kept his eyes glued to the road. "It's nothing I can't handle."

Frowning at the dismissal, Christine leaned back in the leather seat and took a deep breath. "Fine. From here we can just go back to the motel, clean off, and leave."

Silence reigned as Christine directed her gaze out the window and Jeremy chewed his cheek in thought.

"We have a stop to make before we go." He decided to say.

She returned her gaze to him and he could feel the air around them shift as the realization dawned on her.

"Why?" She asked slowly and he knew she wasn't asking why they had a stop to make. "Jer, I don't trust them."

"I don't either." He threw in for his own defense.

"And they don't trust us," Christine continued, her eyes stressing the urgency she suddenly felt throughout her body. "Why can't we just move on and keep not trusting each other from afar?"

He inclined his head to the side, signaling that he didn't really want to say what he was about to. "Because, it couldn't hurt to have them as allies. If these guys are as good as we hear, then I think it would be best to leave on good terms in case something ever happens in the future."

Christine opened her mouth then abruptly closed it and turned her head away. Jeremy shifted his eyes to her and his face contorted in confusion when he saw the pensive expression his sister wore.

"What?" He questioned while returning his attention to the road. "What is it?"

"It's just…" She glowered down at her feet, feeling as if she were about to reveal an embarrassing quality. "I can't hear him."

"You can't hear who?"

"Sam. I can't hear Sam."

* * *

"Really, Dean?" Sam seethed in barely contained anger as his brother pulled them up into the parking lot of the only bar in the small town.

"What?" The older Winchester returned without a care as he shifted the Impala into park before switching off the engine. "Sam, it's a beer. A beer to toast the closing of a case." He trailed off when he saw his brother's eyes suddenly turn away and become shifty. "It is closed, Sam."

"Doesn't feel like it." Sam returned without facing his brother.

"And how does it not feel like it?"

"There are just too many questions left unanswered; especially with those two hunters. And now, suddenly, you want to share a beer with them?"

"They're paying."

"Does that even matter?"

"Yes it matters," Dean snapped, losing his patience with the conversation. "Now are you coming in or not?"

Sam stared intently at his older brother for the longest moment before shaking his head and turning away. In response, Dean turned away as well, pushed open his door and stepped out. The door slammed shut and Sam fought the urge to cringe at the sound.

Dean strode inside the music blaring bar without so much as a glance in his brother's direction. Upon entering the familiar smoky atmosphere, Dean immediately located and crossed the busy floor to the crowded bar. Stepping up between a young group of lovely ladies, Dean placed a hand on the glossy wooden countertop and ordered a shot of the best drink they had. So what if his eyes wondered to the group of girls beside him? They were eyeing him first.

He flashed a flirtatious grin. "How you ladies doing tonight?"

Exhaling a heated breath, Sam shifted lower in his seat so that he could rest an arm over his right knee. He wondered how Dean could trust these hunters so easily. You would think he would have learned after the whole Gordan episode. Sometimes, you just couldn't trust other hunters. Though, Dean seemed adamant on doing just that and Sam continued to draw a blank as to why.

Did he miss something? Did something happen up in the school that explained this odd behavior? Whatever the reason, the end result wasn't boding well with the young Winchester. None of it made any sense.

In the time Sam had spent with Christine outside the school building, he sensed her large discomfort at being with him and felt as if she were keeping her distance. Had she been a normal civilian he would have understood, but she was a hunter. That's what she and her brother claimed to be. The only reason he could see she'd be that way was that she was hiding something. But, what would there be to hide while on a hunt?

Just thinking about it made him distrust the Manning siblings more.

He impatiently tapped his left foot on the floor of the car while lifting a hand to rest thoughtfully over his upper lip. What a time for Dean to pick up and ditch him.

The purr of an engine pulling into the parking lot caught his ear, though he paid little attention to it, knowing it would eventually turn off and people would walk by him into the bar. A pair eventually did appear in his peripheral down the cemented walkway and sure enough they were headed for the darkened glass doors.

The silence was becoming deafening. Sam should have known his brother was dick enough to take the car keys. Reaching into the backseat, Sam dug around for his backpack before pulling out his laptop and facing forward once again. Flipping open the notebook, he woke the machine from hibernation and rolled his eyes before shutting it once more. Of course there wouldn't be Wi-Fi. That would be too convenient for him.

Moving it aside, Sam sighed in frustration before roughly pushing his door open and stepping out into the cool night air. Dean was going to laugh at him. No. Worse. He was just going to stare at him with that smug 'I knew you'd come,' expression.

Stepping into the limelight of the building, Sam focused on the entrance door and barely noticed the person pacing down the walkway away from him. Glancing the person's way Sam had to look again when he saw the person look up at him as well. His feet halted and his hand hesitated in its reach for the door.

The younger Manning sibling stood not six feet away from him, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her legs suddenly glued to the ground. Her bright brown eyes were wide, showing she was just as surprised to see him as he was her.

"What are you doing out here?" Sam questioned.

"Nothing," She replied too hurriedly.

Sam lifted his eyebrows at her unexpected snap though remained quiet as she slightly shook her head. "Aren't you supposed to be inside?"

Gesturing to the entrance Sam answered, "I'm going in."

Her eyes switched over to the door and her arms relaxed slightly. Sam reached for the door again, pulling it open and standing to the side.

"Coming?"

* * *

Jeremy hadn't been sure what to expect while meeting up with Sam and Dean Winchester. The two were becoming well known in the hunting world and, depending on who you listened to, they were either reliable comrades or manipulative backstabbers. The story of Gordan had gotten around like wild fire and suddenly the Winchesters were a top the list to be watchful of.

But, from the moment Jeremy met the brothers he had conflicting views about them. He could hear his uncle's voice in his head clear as day telling him to watch himself and to quit wasting time making friends when in reality he'd never see them again. Christine would glare at him if he honestly told her that she'd reminded him of their uncle in her resistance to see the brothers. Along with his sister, logic told him to move on and hit the road. But, something else nagged at him to stay just for awhile.

Once he'd entered the dimly lit building, Jeremy had little trouble finding Dean at the bar already downing a shot of alcohol. Not seeing Sam anywhere around, Jeremy figured the younger Winchester had backed out of the meeting just as his sister had.

"I see you didn't waste any time." Jeremy commented coming up behind Dean and settling onto the barstool next to him.

The Winchester dropped the shot glass to the bar and gave Jeremy a once over. "After a job, alcohol can't come quick enough."

"I hear you," Jeremy nodded to the bartender and ordered two Buds. "So your brother didn't make it."

"Yeah well the free beer was for me not him."

The bartender set down two cold bottles on the glossed countertop and both hunters were quick to grab their own.

* * *

She leaned back against the wooden booth, her hands loosely clasped on her lap as a young waitress stepped up, introducing herself as Brittany and then asking to be of service. The man across from her was quick to decline anything for himself. So to keep the girl busy, she ordered the first drink that came to mind. Brusquely writing down the order, the girl turned on her heel and headed towards the crowded bar where Christine was able to clearly spot her brother locked in conversation with Dean Winchester.

Biting her tongue, Christine wondered not for the last time that night, why her brother had chosen that moment to be a social bug. Where was the reclusive, nerdy, un-cool guy when she wanted him? In all the years they'd traveled together, Jeremy had never been the socialite of the two. Stepping in and giving orders, he could do. But, the act of making friends was just never his forte. Yet, there he was across the floor, chatting it up with a Winchester as if they'd known each other for years.

The clearing of a throat was enough to bring Christine's attention back to the man across the table from her.

When she had first suggested to Sam Winchester that they sit at a booth to let their brothers talk, she had been surprised that he joined her without a word. From the frown on his face, she could tell he didn't really want to be there at all.

Twitching the corner of her mouth upward in apology, Christine cleared her own throat before pushing herself to sit forward and linking her fingers together on the smooth tabletop.

"They seem to be getting along." She offered up while crossing her ankles under her seat.

Sam kept his face passive, though his eyes showed the perplexity he felt. Before he could reply, the young waitress, Brittany returned with the drink, coasters, and a basket of chips that was freely provided to customers.

"Would you like anything else?" She questioned, looking to Sam expectantly.

Smiling to herself, Christine lowered her eyes and brought the drink to her lips while Sam looked at the waitress with a polite smile. Again, he declined needing anything.

Brittany smiled brightly before heading off to tend to her other tables.

When he didn't say anything first, Christine toyed with an ice cube before speaking up. "I have questions for you. But, you have questions for me too. And…seeing as you don't look to be in a talking mood, you can go first."

Sam didn't have to be told twice. "How did you find Sonia?"

Slightly taken aback, Christine stared at him with wide eyes. "That's your question?"

"Do you not have an answer?"

"I do, but…" Seeing the man lift his eyebrows high into his hairline, Christine broke off her train of thought. This guy was a walking question mark. A giant walking question mark. "We've been here five days-"

Sam shook his head. "Don't give me that 'we've had more time to find her' crap. I want specifics."

"And in those five days," Christine stressed, giving Sam a silencing stare. "We discovered a few things. The first being that the elementary principle wasn't telling the whole story. She's been there fifty years, sure, but what was important was how she got her position. The same year, before Trevino took over, a Mr. Alejandro Vega was the principle of the school. Five months into his term he was forced to resign. Bullying had gotten so bad that it led to a child being beaten to death in the girls' restroom."

"Except there were no reports on the incident actually happening." Sam interjected in challenge.

"There were no reports because no one ever found the body."

Sam's eyebrows shot up once again, this time in surprise. Christine's eyes dropped to the tabletop. As she turned the glass in front of her, several drops of condensation slid down her fingers.

"The girl's name was Tabatha and it was reported that she disappeared the same day as the incident. Only, because her mother wasn't the most reliable woman in town people assumed Tabatha was lost on her mother's watch. That's why her disappearance wasn't linked to the school and eventually everyone forgot about her." In her pause, the hunter lifted the glass to her lips again and dropped her head back to finish off the drink.

Barely paying attention to her actions, Sam focused on the tabletop while his hands fisted in the pockets of his jacket. "How can you be sure she was beaten to death?"

Pushing the glass aside, Christine crossed her arms on the table. "Because we visited one of the girls who actually did it. Claudia Ackerman was the youngest in the group and the last alive who remembers what really happened that day."

Sam stared at the girl in disbelief. "She actually confessed to you? How'd you even find her?"

"When we were with the principle, we got the names of the big bullies in those days. She was actually a fourth grade teacher at the time so she knew those who…regularly forgot their lunch money and had to borrow from others."

"And, she just told you," Sam spoke doubtfully. "She didn't even ask why you wanted to know about the kids back in her day."

Christine lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "She was a very cooperative woman. Once you get passed her like for embarrassing federal agents. Did she tell you and your brother that you had an undeniable sexual tension?"

Sitting bolt right in his seat, the younger Winchester deliberately coughed for lack of knowing whether to laugh or not. "No, she didn't."

It was Christine's turn to lift her eyebrows as a teasing glint shined in her eyes. "From what I could tell, she loved making situations awkward for any outside federal agent. She must have really liked you two to not make a comment."

Scrunching up his face into an 'oh well' expression, Sam shrugged his shoulders and attempted to move the conversation forward. His eyes dropped down to the table as he realized that through all the information she was giving him, something was still missing.

"Why take Sonia?" His eyes lifted to Christine's. "Why Sonia of all kids and why now?"

Christine was silent. Her lips were parted as she took short silent breaths. Her eyes remained latched onto Sam's though they crinkled at the sides indicating her slight confusion. Suddenly, she took a deep breath and jumped in her seat as if awakening from a dream, though he knew she'd just settled on an answer to give him. Whether or not her answer would be completely true, Sam couldn't be sure.

"It's been fifty years. Something must have woken her up after all this time. We don't know what and we don't know why. She just did. Maybe Sonia just had the bad luck of using that stall just like I had the bad luck of running into you and offering up my cooperation." Pulling away from the table, the hunter began to scoot to the end of the booth in order to leave.

Taken back by the sudden turn in conversation, Sam was quick to sputter out a: "What?"

"Why do you care so much?" Christine snapped after reaching the end of the booth. She leaned across the table and boldly locked Sam's eyes in a challenging stare. "We told you from the beginning that we had this case covered and proved so tonight by finding and dealing with the spirit. So what gives with this interrogation?"

"Where do I begin? First you come to our front door and kick us off a case. Then, you get beaten by a ghost so that my brother and I have to save you and let's not forget the important detail that I don't trust you."

"Pal, I don't trust you either. At least I'm treating you like a civil human being and not some suspect on Law and Order."

Sam studied her in that short heated moment and narrowed his eyes. "What are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything."

"You're lying. Why are you so defensive about a simple question?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Sam, but none of your questions have been simple; not with your tone."

"My _tone_?" Sam repeated.

"This double-edged tone where everything you ask can be eluded to something else."

"Maybe that's just your guilty conscience." Sam growled, his green eyes shining in anger.

Christine clenched her jaw as her brown eyes returned the same resentment thrust upon her.

Brittany slowly stepped up to their table, her blue eyes nervously traveling from one customer to the other. "Um, ma'am may I take the glass from you? Or get you a refill?"

Only slightly lowering her eyes from Sam's, Christine used one of her hands to nudge the empty glass towards the girl. "Take it."

Pinching her lips together, the waitress silently reached for the glass and with tense shoulders, turned to leave. To keep from feeling guilty later, Sam broke away from the staring contest completely and smiled apologetically to the young girl.

"Thanks," he said out loud as she walked away.

Brittany gave no inclination of hearing him as she rounded the bar and disappeared behind the customers sitting on stools. He really didn't want to return to speaking with the woman across from him, yet he knew he had to keep her talking. Slowly, he turned his head back to her.

She was still watching him intently with a scowl on her face. But the atmosphere had shifted and he knew she was going to try to be civil with him again.

"What are you?" She questioned. Though her glare was unrelenting, something in her voice conveyed she had reached the end of her rope in the impromptu argument.

Sam felt his heartbeat quicken at the question. His thoughts flashed forward to his psychic ability and the others like him. But he didn't say anything. He kept up the staring match though he felt slightly more vulnerable than before.

"Chris, you ready?" Jeremy's voice pierced through the air and Sam soon found himself looking up at the blond hunter whose ice cold eyes were intently focused on Christine.

Dean stood off to the side behind him, his eyes finding Sam's and blatantly asking him what was going on.

"Yeah," The younger Manning answered curtly. Standing from the booth, she was quick to slam money down on the table before making a quick exit through the darkened doors. With a slight nod to both Winchesters, Jeremy was quick to follow.

Once left alone, Dean stepped up to the table and raised his hands at his sides. "What'd you do?"

Shaking his head and shrugging one shoulder, Sam kept his gaze on the bar entrance. "I didn't think I did anything."

Silently taking in his brother's words, Dean waited a moment before sliding into the seat across from him. "I knew you were bad with girls. I didn't think you were _that_ bad."

Not entirely shocked by his brother's words, Sam merely rolled his eyes. "Shut up. She's a drama queen, that's all it is."

"Oh, so it's not you, it's her." Dean surmised while picking a chip from the discarded basket and tossing it into his mouth.

Recalling that Dean was the reason he was there in the first place, Sam stared dryly at his older brother as he continued to munch on the tortilla chips. "Can we go now?" He had never been more ready to leave a town.


	7. Chapter Six

A/N: Merry Christmas! Thanks again to samgirl19 for your review on chapter six! Hopefully I haven't lost you as a reader during the long drought from updates!

* * *

**Through A Child's Eyes**

**Chapter Six**

* * *

The cold dawn surrounded and filled his senses for a few moments before he breathed in the frigid air and blinked away the morning mist from his vision. The metallic bed beneath him groaned as he shifted to sit straighter and rub the sleep from his eyes. Another night had been spent watching the dark sky, wishing for the warmth of a bed instead.

Clearing his throat, Jeremy turned his head to look over his shoulder and through the glass window to where his sister lay asleep across the seat of the El Camino. As she breathed in softly, Jeremy hefted himself over the rim of the back bed and began to stretch in preparation for another long day on the road.

It'd been a month since their encounter with the Winchester brothers back in Texas, and already they had solved five cases. The last had only been wrapped up the day before. Not one for taking vacations, Jeremy was quick to catch wind of another possible case down in the swamps of New Orleans. From information provided by a local hunter, it sounded like a possible nest of vampires had moved into town.

Normally, Jeremy would have hesitated to ponder his reaction to the news of the case. If he had, he would have realized he was actually a bit excited over the opportunity of hunting a vampire, which would have then troubled him on where exactly he stood in the hunting plane. Was he doing this for the safety of mankind or for the thrill of bloodshed?

He didn't hesitate to ponder. Instead, his stomach growled and he figured it was time for something to eat.

The cry of a lone hawk pierced the morning calm, beckoning a pair of bright blue eyes to the blushing pink and goldenrod sky. Jeremy silently watched as the red tail soared over the highest branches of the surrounding trees before disappearing into the thicket to collect whatever poor creature it had discovered. Turning back to his car, Jeremy grabbed the duffel he'd used as a makeshift pillow and opened the driver's door.

"Time to wake up, Chris." He said in greeting before tossing the heavy duffel onto his sister's smaller frame.

A groan was returned in protest.

"Ge' ou' o' my 'ead."

Smiling, Jeremy pushed the pair of legs from his seat and slid behind the wheel. "Yeah, if only I knew how. Move over."

Pushing the bag to the floor, Christine slowly pulled herself into an upright sitting position and dropped her head back against the seat. "What time is it?"

"Early."

Another groan escaped the girl.

Licking his lips, Jeremy scanned the floor before looking behind his seat where there was a small place to store their hunting gear. Noticing her brother's sudden eagerness, Christine focused her exhausted eyes on him.

"You ate the whole thing last night, remember?"

After finding the discarded wrapper of a sub sandwich sandwichless, Jeremy wadded the paper into a ball and tossed it back into the small space behind him.

"Right," He sighed before relaxing back into his seat. A moment passed in which both siblings simply stared out the windshield at the road ahead of them.

"Hungry?" Jeremy questioned while leaning forward to slip the key into the ignition.

"I could eat." Christine admitted, absentmindedly patting her empty stomach.

"Good." Jeremy turned the ignition and peeled off the grassy side onto the long stretch of road that led into a small town where they planned to fill up on gas and food.

* * *

Jeremy didn't remember any Pete Livingston from high school, and he was pretty good at remembering people of significance. Maybe that was it. He hadn't seen this Pete as anything important and therefore couldn't have cared less for his existence. Apparently, this guy's existence was now _very_ important. In Christine's eyes anyway.

Jeremy had been in the midst of enjoying a mouthful of extremely crispy bacon, whose oily goodness had every taste bud on his tongue watering in ecstasy, when his sister returned from the girls' room, declaring they needed to head back west.

Rolling his eyes, Jeremy rotated his plate so he could start in on the four fluffy buttermilk pancakes.

"What are you talking about?" He questioned after rolling the warm meat to rest on the inside of his cheek. Christine slid into the booth across from her brother and placed her phone on the table between them. Catching her eyes lingering on the plate before him, Jeremy proceeded to pour thick, hot syrup over his pancakes. "I ordered you the same thing. It should be out in a bit."

The younger sibling smiled and murmured her thanks. Jeremy merely nodded as he continued to eat and waited for his sister to answer his question.

"I got a call from an old friend back in high school. He needs our help."

Jeremy paused mid-chew and lifted his eyes to Christine.

"He needs our help, how?" He questioned suspiciously.

An elder woman sporting a blue apron and cap placed a breakfast plate in front of Christine, smiled, then left to check on the other occupants in the diner. The aroma of sizzled bacon, fresh pancakes, baked potato cubes, and scrambled eggs hit Christine full on, causing her mouth to water in anticipation and her stomach to growl in yearning.

His sister stared at the food as if entranced by it.

"Chris," Jeremy snapped his fingers.

"Sorry," Christine sputtered before hurriedly unraveling her silverware and digging in. "His wife disappeared yesterday. No warning, just gone. He's called everyone both he and she know and no one knows where she is."

The older sibling leaned away from his plate, a frown forming on his mouth.

"What can we do about that? His wife left him. His marriage is screwed."

Though the food tasted glorious, her brother's remark enticed an immediate foul mood.

"We don't know that."

"Well, without his wife, I'm pretty sure the marriage falls apart."

"We don't know she left him." She clarified.

Jeremy placed his elbows on the tabletop and rested his forehead on his knuckles. "What, exactly, did your friend ask for?"

Dropping her gaze to the table, Christine fell silent. What initially held her tongue was the fact that what she was about to say wasn't hers to divulge. Lifting his head from his hands, Jeremy fixed his steady eyes on Christine.

"Pete's wife…Julie…" Christine leaned into the table and lowered her voice. "She's a werewolf."

Jeremy stared blankly at her for a full minute. "So what does he want from us? To kill her?"

"No! To help find her."

"You couldn't have had normal friends, could you?"

Before Christine could respond, Jeremy sighed and rubbed his temples in contemplation. Christine momentarily scrunched her face in pain before dropping her head into her hands.

"Please don't think so hard…" She pleaded softly.

"What the hell do you expect me to do, Chris?" Jeremy snapped before lowering his hand to the table and surveying the rest of the diner. His eyes returned to his sister, who was still trying to regain control of her bearings, and immediately he pulled a wad of dollar bills to leave on the table.

"Let's go." He grumbled, quickly moving to his feet and turning his back on the leftovers of a now cold breakfast.

Christine hurried to catch up with him. Once they reached the Camino, Christine asked what her brother planned on doing.

Glaring through the bright light of the now high sun, Jeremy responded: "If anyone else has caught on to your friend's secret, then it's more than likely this Julie has already been hunted down. And that's the _best_ case scenario." He'd added when he saw his sister about to protest. "The worst case is that she's done some killing and is now hiding because of it. In which case, _we_ will be the ones to take her down. So you better hope this is just another marriage gone sour."

With that, Jeremy opened the driver's door and slipped into the vehicle. The disappointment that curdled in Jeremy's gut was difficult to discern. As Christine silently slid into the passenger seat beside him, he decided he didn't particularly feel like figuring out why.

* * *

This Pete Livingston lived two states over from where they'd originally begun the day. Now, the sky bled a fiery red around the setting sun ahead of them. With each glance in the rearview mirror, Jeremy witnessed the advancement of a dark velvet blanket that carried the mysteries and tragedies of the night.

Christine had fallen asleep beside him, her head cradled by her arms which rested on the lowered window of the passenger door.

Calm was beginning to settle over him, which caused him to increase pressure on the accelerator pedal. He couldn't risk feeling at ease. He needed to be alert where his sister would not.

Not for the first time, Jeremy considered calling in help for the job. Like money for most people, the phone number of a fellow hunter had been burning a hole in his pocket. Logic kept the phone at bay. First, he needed to make sure there was a case to phone in help for.

A large sign welcomed Jeremy into a new town where the population was less than five thousand. Pulling off of the highway, Jeremy nudged his sister.

"We're here. Where does he live?"

Pulling out a crumpled slip of paper, Christine sat straight in her seat to take up her responsibility as guide.

Pete lived on the outskirts of the town; apparently he owned half of the countryside or so. They turned down a dirt driveway that after a mile, led to a cozy, single story house no larger than a suburban home.

"He has all this land, and _this_ is his house?" Jeremy remarked, unimpressed as he stared through the windshield at the wooden structure.

"He's not exactly rich." Christine explained, gazing through the windshield as well. "His grandparents left him all this land when they passed away. It's been in his family for a couple generations and…I guess they just paid off the cost before it got to him."

Jeremy grunted in disbelief before saying, "Well, he's your friend."

Christine turned to her brother with a questioning expression.

"Lead the way." He elaborated.

Sighing, Christine pushed her door open and stepped out into the cool night. Jeremy followed suit, his eyes wary as he studied the field of trees that surrounded them.

"There's no one around for miles," he noted. "Great place for a werewolf to live in secret. Also the most obvious. No one to hear you screaming for miles…"

His gaze wandered around the area until he landed on his sister, who stared at him with her lips pressed together and her eyebrows raised.

"I'm done." He said, turning his attention back to the trees.

Rolling her eyes, Christine walked through the rocky gravel to the wooden steps that led to the front door. The porch light consisted of a single exposed bulb just above the front door. What worried her was that no other light was visibly on in the house.

Jeremy's steps were deceptively light as he joined his sister on the porch.

"Is anyone home?" He asked while studying the slow movement of a hammock to the right of the house. Living out in the country must have been just dandy for Pete and his wife. If it weren't for the whole werewolf thing.

"I don't know." Christine admitted, though suddenly she appeared to be anxious. "I want to try something. Be quiet for a moment."

Lifting an eyebrow, Jeremy visibly wanted to question what she was going to do, though he kept his mouth shut when Christine's eyes closed and her forehead creased in concentration.

Realization suddenly dawned on him and Jeremy immediately hissed for her to cut it out.

Shaking her head, Christine turned sharp eyes on her brother.

"He's home." She informed before turning to the door and knocking on it. "Pete, its Christine, open up!"

Rolling his eyes, Jeremy nudged her shoulder and growled, "You couldn't have done that to begin with?"

The door swiftly opened, cutting off any further banter. Standing before them was a young man of medium build with dark hair and pained eyes. He looked the part of distraught husband from what Jeremy could tell, but this thought was quickly overshadowed when the man stepped forward and enveloped Christine in a tight embrace. It was much like seeing a scared little boy running into the safe arms of his mother.

When they pulled away from each other, Jeremy could have sworn that he saw something pass between the two, and it wasn't the verbal greeting they exchanged. Something in their eyes as they gazed at one another…

As the older brother, Jeremy did not like it.


End file.
